


spin the bottle

by mercuryretrograte (brujadelmar)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Businessmen, Cute Kids, Drama & Romance, Love Triangles, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:29:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28543350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brujadelmar/pseuds/mercuryretrograte
Summary: If weren't for the past, the future wouldn't be so bright.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Lu Han
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of adult fiction. Read the tags!

There was some cruelty in his voice, that was for sure. Announcing like that, in the middle of a meeting, without warning Minseok first.

Yet Minseok was once an entertainer, so he smiled.

“Back home?” Yixing asked, a bit confused. “What do you mean?”

“My parents want me to take care of their business, as always, and God knows I’ve been delaying for way too long,” he said and the slight accent was now loud. “I got a deadline now.”

The glass table seemed to be interesting. Their shoes under, shining prettily against the marble floor.

“You’ll be missed,” Boah added politely and none of them was sure that if that was true. Luhan wasn’t that loved, after all. The partners enjoyed his attention, of course, and the general public thought he was an endearing face as the leader – which wasn’t hard when most of them were older men. At the ripe age of twenty-nine and with a babyface, he seemed to be the best option for a commercial, not an office job.

“I won’t,” he dismissed her with a playful gesture. “We all know Minseok gets the hard work, after all.”

“I could never socialize like you,” Minseok chose the truth over politeness. “I’m a homebody.”

That word. Luhan's eyes lingered on him for a painful second.

“But well, let’s forget it for now,” Yixing, the peacemaker, raised a hand. “We can have tons of celebrations after this but we have a task today, don’t we?”

Luhan smiled, nodding, His long pearl shit was slightly unbuttoned even under the AC. What a terrible moment for a breakup, Minseok thought, staring at the graphics that no longer made sense. No one would question his silent ways, after all.

They didn’t cross paths on the way out and Minseok went straight to his office. It was about time, he sighed in relief. The pain, the empty spaces, the past, he would rather have it all at once, pull the band-aid, cutting it short. 

.

His sister found him drinking by the pool, at night. His shoes were left on the stairs and he was still dressed, sitting on a chair. He chose Champagne Rosé and was drinking in a whiskey glass, no ice, no other drink.

“Bad day?” She asked carefully.

“It could’ve been better,” he confessed.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not yet.”

“I need to leave Yooa here. She’s sleeping already.”

He raised his head, confused. No huge backpack with clothes, toys and food, just the baby sleeping on her father’s back.

“It’s just a business dinner,” she explained. “She’ll be asleep until we’re back.”

“I hope so,” Minseok stood up and left the glass on the chair. “I’m not in the nice uncle mood tonight.”

For the next two hours, he stared at his room’s window while Beethoven played in the back; Yooa asleep on his 300 dollars bedsheet. 

.

“Why don’t you date?” Yifan asked as if he had sensed something.

“What?” Minseok held the phone against his chest, looking up. “What kind of question is this?”

“You said you take care of babies, why don’t you have your own?”

Minseok was truly speechless. He was there to grab the financial report, not to be asked such things.

“Do you want to ask me out?” Minseok teased to mask his discomfort.

Yifan, unsurprisingly, blushed. He was painfully shy despite having an intimidating aura, being tall, and never smiling without a good reason. He was handsome too, had a fashionable image, and not too straightforward.

“No, I was just curious,” he mumbled. “You’re older than me and everyone asks me that.”

“And what’s your answer?”

“I can’t find the right person.”

Minseok gulped, suddenly remembering that he put someone on hold.

“I have to take this call,” he said, turning his face. A few meters to the elevator, he walked in without a doubt but wasn’t sure which button to press. Another person was there and they probably assumed that they were heading to the same place; Minseok remembered the way to his office before following his unexpected company to whatever their destiny was.

The coffee on his table was cold and he drank it anyway. Working as a therapy, a scape, his pride.

The pictures hanging on the wall were there to remind him that money was everything. That was what saved him from a life of poverty, terrible relationships, becoming his parents, and getting their regular, dog-day life.

Someone knocked on the door and he knew the sound by heart.

“Come in,” he said, unaffected.

Luhan opened the door, smiling. He was dressed in all black, humid pink lips.

“Hello,” he said, quite loud, in English. “You busy?”

“Always,” Minseok answered. “Be quick.”

Luhan closed the door, walked in, and sat down. It felt like it was a regular meeting as if he was just wandering and decided to show up to chat. It wasn’t the case, of course.

“I’m sorry for not telling you first,” he said, now quietly. 

“It was bound to happen,” Minseok shrugged. “Sooner or later.”

There was an inevitable silence.

“What made you accept their offer this time?” Minseok thought out loud.

“They found me a bride,” Luhan said.

It felt so casual, so simple. It was almost funny.

“A bride,” Minseok repeated.

“A girlfriend,” he explained. “A celebrity, pretty young girl. Her family is rushing them to make us official, so they’re rushing me to come back.”

Minseok didn’t even feel jealous. It felt like he was watching a movie and he wasn’t there, he was sleeping, unconscious, lost.

“It will happen to you, someday,” Luhan said.

Minseok nodded, waving his hand to make him leave.

“I bet,” he snorted. “I have to translate the financial report. Was that all?”

 _Was that all,_ it echoed inside of him. Was that all after so many years? Not that Minseok, fancy suit and expensive coffee, no, it wasn’t him asking. Broke Minseok, accepted into a top university and working part-time as a translator so he could pay his bills. That forgotten young baby, fresh out the military, walking in a class full of rich heirs like Luhan himself. Minseok who helped Luhan to survive in Korea, dropped his plans to follow a career he wasn’t even into. Minseok who joined Luhan’s business when it was small and irrelevant, betting everything on his boyfriend’s success.

 _My success is your success,_ Luhan used to say. He wasn’t wrong, after all – about that. He was wrong, of course, about Minseok’s future. Now that he made more than his parents’ and grandparents’ combined, now that he could afford his freedom, no one would care about his status. His sister had a baby and Minseok would be a nice uncle, would pay for the best school, summer vacations, university, everything that his niece needed.

“No,” Luhan seemed offended.

The phone rang, a foreign number, probably a client. 

“Excuse me,” Minseok said. “This is important.”

.


	2. Chapter 2

The farewell party date was written on the wall behind the coffee machine so it wasn’t like Minseok could ignore it. He could blame someone who knew about his deep addiction, but it was probably done by an intern, so he just accepted it in silence, though, when he was about to leave, he showed the crayon letters his middle finger.

He went from coffee to alcohol, which was his adult life survival cycle. He knew the restaurant by heart and he also knew that almost no one would sit at the bar when they could take a seat and enjoy the food, yet it was a strategic place.

“Send a drink to the pianist,” Minseok winked. “Tell him he’s cute.”

There was a velvet curtain behind the piano, covering the back door as if a magician was about to show up with terrible tricks.

Baekhyun got the drink and spotted Minseok easily, even without his glasses. He looked a lot wiser on stage, suit and tie, neat hairstyle. He accepted the Piña Colada and licked the glass in a mocking way.

Minseok called a cab for them.

“What,” Baekhyun ran to him, throwing an arm around Minseok’s shoulders. “Should I expect something good or bad?”

“Good,” he smiled. “Free food, free party.”

“I know I’m your struggling artist friend, but I wished that you invited me to good events other than parties.”

It was a bit chilly outside, despite the burning summer. It was late at night, after all.

“My sister wants me to keep an eye on Yooa on Sunday, how about that.”

“I said _good_ events.”

They laughed. The street was empty and quiet, so it felt like they could share a secret as well.

“Luhan’s farewell party,” Minseok mumbled.

Baekhyun’s smiled died on his face and then was replaced by a sarcastic one.

“Better late than never.”

“Come on!”

“I’m serious,” Baekhyun said, checking the expensive Rolex Minseok had gifted him. “It’s time for you two to move on. There’s nothing left but memories, right?”

Minseok shrugged. Maybe that was supposed to be the truth, it had been a while since they slept together, the last time being on a trip with the work crew – the last exciting thing too. Minseok always suspected that Luhan thrived on the secrecy of their relationship, in the fact that they were both men and too ambitious, like, just like Minseok, he was doing the exact opposite that his parents wanted him to.

“He’s going to get married,” he announced.

Baekhyun didn’t seem to be surprised by that.

“And in ten years, he’ll be just like the businessmen that put money on my chair while I’m playing, like I’m a stripper or something,” the artist laughed. “I mean, they’re all hypocrites, they all wear a fancy wedding ring.”

“That’s sad.”

“For you. I get money and I don’t have to give anyone a lap dance.”

Minseok giggled, a bit tired.

“I miss you,” he said sincerely. “Come help me take care of my niece, please.”

“Me?” Baekhyun sighed. “I’m not—I’m not good around my own nephew. Why don’t you call Jongdae, for God’s sake?”

“He already has a baby to take care of.”

“That’s my whole point!”

“He’s busy.”

Kind of, they knew well. Having a family was a full-time job but since the baby news broke and he started thinking about his wedding, Minseok and Baekhyun became a couple of bachelors, those fun friends from the past. Now Jongdae hung out with other families, married couples, people who discussed good schools, taxes, and their future retirement. Hanging out with him was tolerating that he couldn’t stay late or leave his phone unattended, no more alcohol or sex jokes.

For a scary minute, Minseok pictured Luhan living just like that.

“Don’t,” Baekhyun read his mind. “You know what? Sleep on my couch tonight. Don’t think about him, don’t—stay in. We can watch a movie, we can talk, just don’t be alone.”

“Thanks,” Minseok said. “I—.”

.

Sleeping at Baekhyun’s was the best thing for his bad mood. Minseok worked diligently and ignored Yixing’s remarks about him wearing the same clothes two days in a row. He called his sister, working on an excuse to say no.

“ _The tutor will arrive at eight a.m. and leave at five_ ,” she informed him.

“Tutor?” Minseok felt relieved and confused.

“ _Yes, the guy I hired because of her problem_.”

She didn’t have a problem. She was a shy kid – didn’t like anyone at first sight, had a hard time making friends, was quiet. Yet his family tested her over and over; _is she on the spectrum? Is she deaf? Does she have a cognitive problem? A genetic problem?_ None, it seemed.

“Oh god.”

“ _It’s not a doctor, it’s just a psychologist_ ,” she explained. “ _He works with kids who present any difficulty in socialization_.”

“Fine,” Minseok had given up on this subject a long time ago. “I won’t be able to be home that early, there will be an office party at night—Luhan is leaving the country.”

“ _Oh_ ,” she mumbled. “ _I’m sorry for you all. You don’t have to be there to welcome him, but I’ll need you to make sure he leaves safely_.”

“Is he going to be alone there with her?” Minseok wasn’t enjoying that part.

“ _He brings other kids with him and I’ll be around until lunchtime_.”

“It’s still a stranger, though,” he argued. “Pay for that girl babysitter until I arrive there, I’ll pay for it.”

The office phone was ringing and it was Yixing’s code.

“I have to answer another call,” he warned before shutting his phone down for good. And then he ignored Yixing, knowing that it would make the lawyer magically appear in his office.

Three minutes later, the prophecy was fulfilled.

“Can we chat?” He opened the door, smiling, holding a cup of coffee. Oh-Oh.

“Do I have a choice?” Minseok asked sincerely.

Yixing made himself comfortable and put the cup next to Minseok’s arm.

“Starbucks, expresso,” he winked. “I know you love it.”

“Okay, now I’m scared,” Minseok gulped. “What happened?”

Yixing had the same smile on his face. He was hired to represent them but Minseok knew that he had specialized in conciliation. It wasn’t hard to notice how he was just finding people to talk to, solving small conflicts, comforting and listening.

“I just wanna know if you’re okay,” he shrugged. “There has been a weird energy around your office lately.”

Minseok rubbed his face.

“I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“I’m not happy that my business partner has decided to leave so suddenly but I certainly dealt with worse things.”

“You’re not going to be responsible for his obligations, you know. There’s a guy, an actor, that we’re about to hire.”

Minseok was speechless.

“An actor,” he mumbled.

“Just for the whole deal, Luhan informed us that he’ll continue to be a part of the team, though it’s going to be a secret for a while."

Minseok took a deep breath to avoid sharing how much Luhan liked secrets.

“You can’t be serious. Not you, Yixing.”

“Well, that’s the only way for him to please his parents and we don’t lose our founder, I guess.”

“Can’t just he leave like a normal person?”

It sounded a bit mean.

“Are you two fighting?” Yixing frowned. “I thought you would be okay with it.”

“It’s just weird,” Minseok pointed. “Good lord, I can’t be the only person who is sane enough to think that we should just have found someone who works here to take his place? Why not Boah, she’s been here since the start.”

“You know better than me that this place is his baby, he created it and he doesn’t want to leave it completely yet, give him time. This is his pride, of course, he always wants to be at the top.”

“Not always,” Minseok said absently then realized his mistake. “I mean, I can’t stop him, so why bother? I’ll be here anyway.”

Always there. Always at home, in the dark, in the same place, frozen as he was a decade ago, while everyone moves forward – even Luhan.

“Are you going to attend the party?” Yixing asked.

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“Baekhyun.”

“The funny friend.”

“He’s not funny. You just like him way too much.”

“He seems like a nice guy.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Yixing.”

“Why not?”

“Please leave. I can’t stand everyone asking about my relationship status.”

Yixing shrugged, defeated.

“If you need a friend, you know where you can find me.”

“Thanks for the coffee,” Minseok smiled until the door closed.

.


	3. Chapter 3

.

Minseok wasn’t sure of what he was expecting but the party was the regular-happy-hour. A meeting at Yixing’s summer house, beer gallons, and red cups because he liked the American aesthetic. No one was overdressed or still in office clothes so he felt comfortable walking in wearing Baekhyun’s clothes; those that he bought from a very modern store with all that genderless stuff. They fitted Minseok’s foreign feeling, though he was technically one of them.

Yixing offered them drinks and cigarettes.

“We don’t smoke,” Baekhyun said. “But we do drink, so yeah, what do you have?”

“Don’t fall for it,” Minseok pointed. “He’s a lightweight.”

“I’m not,” Baekhyun lied. “Give him a strong drink, by the way. He needs it.”

Minseok accepted a gin, mostly because he didn’t own a single bottle at home. Maybe if he kept acting differently, he would get unstuck, he thought. He walked around the pool, staring at the garden, thinking about the first time he was there. He didn’t have his own place and he loved the fact that the new lawyer’s house had a glass wall, allowing the people in the kitchen to see the pool area without having to leave the house. When Minseok bought his own, he demanded the architect to do the same. The difference is that Yixing lived in a classic mansion back in his home country and Minseok lived in a summer house all year long.

Gin wasn’t his drink, that’s for sure, so he swallowed with eyes closed.

“Keep walking,” Luhan said quietly behind him.

“Geez,” Minseok held the cup against his chest. “Are you going to kidnap me or something like that?”

Luhan giggled, pressing his cold glass on Minseok’s arm.

“This is a gun.”

“What’s that?” He checked. “Vodka? Not a gun, but it can kill.”

“Really, let’s get inside,” Luhan pleaded with a gentle voice. “I want to talk to you.”

“We are talking right now.”

The music wasn’t that loud, but people didn’t seem to be interested in them. Why would they? Two old work partners talking like any other day, no surprises, nothing new.

“You know what I mean,” Luhan sounded tired.

Minseok stared at him, dressed like he was chilling at home, and tried to think about the time that they fell in love. What did it feel like back then? There weren’t butterflies anymore, just plain and old attachment, an odd familiarity.

“No, I don’t. I really don’t. What do you want to talk about?”

Shining stars over them, a bunch of confetti, loud trap song. _This could be us,_ the singer was telling them.

“It’s not over, you know,” Luhan said, shrugging. “I’m not giving up yet.”

That could be a sentence about so many things.

“You should find a good replacement, not a fake one,” Minseok advised. “It’s a bit over the top, even for you.”

Luhan smiled because he enjoyed the bickering. They liked fights, competitions, games; two racing Aries, after all.

“I can’t tell if you’re mad with me and I think that’s scary as fuck,” he cursed, still smiling.

“I’m not,” Minseok looked up.

He is relieved.

Someone approached them, offered new drinks. Luhan got a beer bottle and drank straight from it.

“Do you want to come with me?” He offered suddenly.

Minseok stared at the pool and he was deeply offended. He remembered staying at home while his rich classmates had expensive trips, he could taste the bad feeling of being the last one to be successful, the nights overworking, burning out. Traveling and moving away always seemed to be something so far from his reality, though he had now enough money to do it. Yet it was a terrible idea, going away to be stuck at home, to be another pretty thing on his lover’s wall.

“No,” he answered.

“We could make it work.”

“I don’t want it,” Minseok confessed. “I just—for me, it’s over.”

Saying out loud made his hands shake. So it was the truth. _I’m the big bad wolf,_ the song warned.

“It’s not,” Luhan said simply, not a single trace of worry. “It’ll never be.”

“Yeah, I don’t have time for that,” Minseok said and realized at the same time. Soon he would be thirty, their time was running out. It was cute and fun as the twenties’ impossible love, something to remember years later, but it had to end before it turned ugly.

Luhan stared at him for a long time. Minseok dared to stare back. Maybe if he had said it out loud, just once, maybe if he liked it to be more than an adrenaline rush.

Suddenly Minseok craved dessert, something sweet.

“Please just leave,” he told his partner. “Finish what you have started, just once.”

Baekhyun finally noticed them and ran for the rescue.

“Hey,” he waved, approaching them. “Oh, hi, Luhan. Didn’t see you there—what are you doing there? Yixing wants to do a toast, you better have a speech ready, man.”

Baekhyun was genuine, with his small calm eyes so it wasn’t necessary to change the mood, to pretend that it was a casual conversation.

“I was born ready,” Luhan joked.

“That’s why you’re the boss,” Baekhyun complimented sincerely.

“He’s right, that’s a party,” Minseok added. “You should enjoy your last day around here.”

Luhan didn’t answer, just kept walking. Minseok held Baekhyun’s sweater slightly and whispered:

“Wanna go to a karaoke bar? We need to leave quietly.”

Baekhyun looked at him and there was pride in his eyes.

.

Minseok slept on Baekhyun’s couch again, but not because he was sad – because his best friend was a lightweight that passed out after a few songs and beer bottles. Minseok rushed back home when he noticed missed calls, his sister’s words waking him up better than any coffee. It took a while for him to hail a cab and even more to get home, but he wasn’t exactly late.

There were cars in front of his house. For a moment, he even doubted that it was, in fact, his place, even if he lived in a village with few neighbors.

“Here,” he pointed, helping the driver to find an empty spot. He recognized the nanny by the door and a couple of kids that he may have seen at Yooa’s last birthday party. Minseok walked around, confused, still hungover like he was back to his University days, careless and with no worries – he was even wearing Converse.

“Hello,” he said cutely in order not to scare anyone.

“Hello,” the nanny smiled. “Mr. Kim. We’re taking the kids back to their parents.”

“Are they here as well?” Minseok looked around.

“Yes, they came to pick the babies back,” she said, pointing. “Mrs. Kim told us you would be here earlier, I hope you’re not mad that we called drivers here.”

“Not at all,” Minseok assured her, watching another young lady coming out of his house with a boy in her arms. “More babysitters.”

She laughed at his confusion.

“Ah, otherwise the kids would’ve made a mess,” she said. “Yooa is taking a nap. Should I take her home or you’ll do it?”

Minseok knew what it meant, so he grabbed his wallet as soon as he could. Money for the cab, money for the service; he gave her real cash.

“Take her home, please. I can’t drive today,” he confessed. “Thank you very much for coming today.”

“Let’s go inside,” she said. “The teacher is still picking his stuff, I think.”

Minseok walked in like a stranger, having to nod to a couple of teenagers and kids. He couldn’t even remember the last time his place was so crowded, so he just smiled and endured it. The babysitter went straight to the stairs, but Minseok was mesmerized by the tall man crouched in the middle of the living room. As her heels made a sound, hitting against the stairs’ thick glass, Minseok stared at him.

Clear jeans, dark Converse, dirty white t-shirt. His light brown hair was falling on his eyes while he was looking down, a colorful popsicle on his mouth, touching his thick lips. He stood up suddenly, hands on his hips, and he was even bigger than he looked before.

“I’m sure there was another popsicle around here,” he said, muffled words because he moving the popsicle by moving his jaw.

“Leave it for me,” Minseok said.

The man stared at him, a bit startled by the voice. They stared at each other in silence.

“You must be Mr. Kim,” he smiled, biting the popsicle quickly.

“Aren’t we all,” Minseok shrugged.

The man was surprised for a second.

“It’s funny, I’m also a Kim,” he kept giggling. “I’m Jongin, I’m your daughter’s psychologist.”

“She’s not my daughter.”

“Oh—I’m sorry. I just—I’ve never met her father so—She looks like you.”

“Yes, she’s my niece and I know, don’t apologize. It’s not the first time, you see.”

“Well, you look too young to be a father.”

“I’m the _older_ brother.”

Jongin laughed. It was a high-pitched laugh and it was surprising because it was extremely odd. He looked good, like a celebrity or something, well-defined body and pretty face, but he laughed like an old lady.

“I’m sorry,” the psychologist said. “I spent the whole day eating only kid’s snacks and candy. My brain isn’t working anymore.”

The babysitter’s heels warned that she was back. Yooa was sleepy, her tiny lips forming an annoyed pouch.

“Ah, no… where’s my little princess,” Minseok said cutely. “Isn’t she here?”

Yooa turned her head towards him and moved her arms.

“Here,” she said.

“Ah, here she is,” Minseok opened his arms as an invitation. “Give uncle a kiss before you leave.”

She was warm and soft, refusing to move too much. She put her tiny head on his shoulder, smashing her cheek against his sweater.

“Did you have fun today?” He whispered.

She nodded, tiny hands scratching her eyes.

“Are you going to miss me when you leave?” He asked.

“No,” she mumbled.

Minseok faked a shocked face just to please her.

“Kidding,” she smiled.

“You better,” he kissed the tip of her nose. “Behave until you meet your mom, okay? Ask her to call Uncle when you get home.”

She nodded again. She was a quiet child; it wouldn’t be a problem, he thought, smiling at the babysitter holding her again.

“She always talks about you,” Jongin said and it was MInseok’s time to be startled. “Though I really pictured you differently.”

“Does she?” Minseok smiled. “Well, I’m her favorite uncle.”

The only one.

“Yooa is a good kid and she’s very smart,” Jongin said, watching them leave.

“Does she have a problem?” Minseok asked, a bit defiantly.

Jongin stared at him.

“Of course. She’s a person. Why wouldn’t she have at least one problem?”

Minseok was speechless.

“Not the problem that you think that she has,” Jongin grabbed a backpack that was left on the floor. “She’s perceptive and she can understand what happens around her. She knows that her parents are busy and she feels left behind, sometimes, even if it’s hard to express, I mean, she’s five, she doesn’t have the emotional or the argumentative resources to say it in a way the adults around her would understand. She was also introduced to technological tools and gadgets way too early – it interferes with the developmental process. She’s a lonely kid and those devices aren’t able to replace human interaction, so when she’s around kids, she doesn’t know well how to behave. I’ve been telling your wi— _sister,_ that Yooa needs friends around her age and a school that gives her some independence and freedom so she develops the ability to make her own choices and find her true expression, and, unfortunately, or not, kids do that when they make mistakes. There’s absolutely no need for discipline and many school hours for a kid so young.”

Minseok was listening and digesting the words.

“I need to leave,” Jongin said. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kim.”

“Stay for dinner,” Minseok said quickly. “You said you didn’t eat anything—I also didn’t. I’ll order something. What would you like?”

Jongin was, of course, surprised.

“You don’t have to feed me, it’s not really…”

“Oh, I want to. Please, I insist.”

“I—,” Jongin hesitated for a second. “I like lamb.”

Minseok smiled, satisfied.

“Lamb it is, then.”

Nervous now that he was a host, Minseok crossed the living room, gesturing his guest to follow him. He multitasked – got Jongin’s backpack and put it on a chair, called the restaurant, picked the plates he reserved for guests only.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asked distracted, phone against his cheek. “I have wine, tequila, vodka—”

“Juice,” Jongin said quietly, sitting shyly at the white table. “I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Oh—fine,” Minseok said – it was the first time he heard that from another adult man. “I think I have orange juice.”

Someone was saying something on the phone.

“Oh, please,” Minseok said. “Yes, no—no sauce or extra forks. Thirty minutes? If you make it quicker, I can give a good tip to the delivery guy. Oh, please. I’m starving. Thank you.”

He put the orange juice on the table and checked the expiration date.

“Ah, what a relief,” he smiled and the phone slid down, slipping from his hand and falling on the chair. “Fuck—I mean, sorry.”

Jongin raised an eyebrow.

“I’m twenty-five,” he said, confused. “Not a conservative man, either.”

Minseok felt dumb.

“Sorry, it’s just—,” he served the juice, just to regain the focus. “You seem to be the only sane person I’ve spoken to in a long time.”

Jongin giggled.

“I’m serious,” Minseok sat down, parallel to him. “Listen, what you said about her—I’ve been saying something like that too, but well, no one listens to me and I get it. I’m a single uncle, what do I know about kids? But it’s not hard to realize that she’s lonely and shy.”

“What does her dad do?” His guest asked.

“He works with technology and he was hired by an overseas company. They’re trying to get a promotion but there’s a huge cultural shock. My family is pretty conservative and his boss is a very progressive woman—the whole company is promoting new diversity politics, etc, so. My sister used to be a stay-at-home mom and now she needs to go everywhere and pretends she wants to have a career… at some point, I think they lost direction, and now Yooa is like a ping-pong ball.”

Jongin drank his juice in silence.

“There’s also the English School, which I hate, but it’s expensive and they like it. As you’ve said, they’re—not great. I’m glad we’re able to afford good education but,” Minseok sighed. “Sorry. You must be tired after handling kids all day long.”

“I’m actually dirty,” he pointed to his shirt. “Not tired, I feel great after spending time with them.”

“Really.” Minseok couldn’t hide his disgust.

“Don’t you like kids?”

“I prefer adults.”

“So you prefer controlled environments and the safeness of social rules,” Jongin said, shaking his head. “Well, lying constantly does have its charm.”

Minseok snorted. 

“I guess I got used to it,” he confessed.

“What do you do, Mr. Kim?” Jongin asked politely. “Your niece says that you read papers.”

“Minseok,” he corrected. “She’s not wrong. Actually, I’m the financial director of a company that sells energetic drinks for men. And when I say ‘energetic’, I mean…”

He lifted one finger in a significant gesture. Jongin spat his juice.

“I know,” Minseok said. “She’ll believe I only read papers for a while.”

“I’m sorry,” Jongin wiped his mouth. “There’s nothing weird with that. It’s just—I wasn’t expecting that.”

Minseok stood up to close the window behind them; it was windy suddenly, a few plastic bags flying away, now the sun had set. Jongin moved his long arm and held Minseok’s wrist.

“Please, don’t. I like the wind. It’s nice.”

He said in such a sweet voice.

“Okay,” Minseok sat back, the warm touch refusing to vanish after Jongin retreated his arm.

.


	4. Chapter 4

.

“So the kid pointed to the teacher, you know, the counselor, in that school, he was a teacher and the counselor, and said,” Jongin coughed, getting ready to mimic the kid. “ _I know him! He’s a friend of mom, they sleep in the same bed.”_

Minseok spat out his wine, laughing. 

“And I didn’t know how to react because, well, if he had said that when he was in my office, then it’d be confidential, but he said in front of everyone,” Jongin continued, now grabbing the caramelized onion and dropping on the rest of his food.

“Was the father there as well?” Minseok asked, wiping his mouth. 

“Oh, god, no, no,” the other man answered. “Imagine so--I would’ve died.”

“And what happened next?”

“Ah, they pretended that nothing happened, of course. What else they could do?” 

“I bet they started gossiping about that right after.”

“Well, probably. I don’t know much about gossip, not in my office,” the psychologist explained. 

“I know a thing or two,” Minseok said bitterly. “It’s really a social disease. Everybody does it and everybody is afraid of it, a never-ending cycle.”

The way they had to create a whole new persona at work, to be wary of who they were complaining to, measure the distance between the rooms, the walls… Minseok knew it way too well, after so many years of silence and secrets. It’s been so long since he wasn’t afraid of what other people said about him, about them...

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kim--”

“Minseok.”

“I’m sorry, Minseok,” Jongin giggled. “It’s getting late. You must have work to do tomorrow. Thank you for the meal, but I think I’m gonna get going.”

Minseok sighed, a bit disappointing. He just had realized that he hadn’t a light conversation like this one in a long time. 

“It’s fine,” he lied. “You’re right. I’ll ask for a cab… Thanks for keeping me company, by the way.”

It sounded clear that he didn’t want to. Jongin was munching and staring at him, calm but way too focused. The guest picked the napkin and wiped his mouth elegantly. 

Minseok was checking his phone, before long forgotten on the chair. Jongin placed his hand on the screen and pressed it down, making the phone fall again. 

“What if I stay,” he asked quietly, staring at Minseok. 

  
  
  


.

  
  
  
  


Minseok only opened his eyes when he couldn’t fight the light anymore. It was so bright, he thought, ungluing himself from the blankets, annoyed. So, hot, he thought, leaving the bed, to close the curtains. 

Wait, he realized, staring at his own naked body. His eyes followed the trail of clothes to the bed and he had to deal with the reality of the man sleeping there. 

“Oh, yes,” he whispered. That did happen and it wasn’t just a very realistic wet dream. 

His eyes widened as he realized that it was, in fact, Monday. He stormed out of his room, running downstairs to find his phone at the same spot that he had dropped the night before. 

_13 missed calls._

He dared to call back; at least he chose the most rational one. Yixing answered immediately.

“ _Are you okay?”_ The lawyer asked, sweet as ever. 

“Yes, I am.”

“ _Can you tell me what happened? Everyone in your sector is freaking out because you’re late._ ”

“Oh, it was nothing important,” Minseok sighed. “I’ll be there soon, I promise. Give me an hour or so…”

There was an odd silence after those words. 

“ _You don’t have to come today if you don’t want to, you know. You work too hard.”_

It was true. No one worked harder than him, at least not in that company. Minseok worked during the weekends, late hours, holidays, and his own birthday. He had money now, it wasn’t about being broke anymore. Working as a safe escape, a way to keep people from asking questions about his life, his non-conformability. 

At this point, his only identity. 

“I’ll go, anyway,” he mumbled. “I have to, Yifan feels lonely without me.”

That made Yixing laugh. 

“ _That’s fine."_

Despite the feeling of freedom that skipping a whole shift gave him, Minseok had a big problem. A tall problem sleeping in his bed. He stared at his phone and decided to ask for help. 

Baekhyun didn’t even have time to say hello. 

“Hypothetically,” Minseok said quickly. “Let’s say that I had casual sex and the person is sleeping like a rock in my bed.”

“ _Hypothetically,”_ Baekhyun repeated, mocking. 

“So, I have to work and I need to know what’s appropriate to do in this situation.”

“ _Tell me who is it and I’ll give my opinion.”_

“No.”

“ _It’s important. The answer may vary.”_

"Okay,” Minseok suddenly remembered that he was naked in front of a glass wall. “God-- my niece’s psychologist.”

As expected, his best friend laughed loudly. 

“ _Ooooh, so fucked up, that’s so sexy… is he hot?”_

“Is that important?”

“ _Yup._ ”

“Probably the hottest man I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

“ _Well, then, You have to impress the guy, right? He knows your family and you may bump into him one of these days… and he’s hot. So leave the uber money with a note, don’t wake him up. Write a cute note, okay? Tell him that he’s welcomed anytime, something like that.”_

“And then what?”

“ _Go to work.”_

“Do I leave him here?”

“ _Absolutely. Pray that he forgets something so you guys can get a second round.”_

“That doesn’t feel right.”

“ _If you wake him up, you’ll be a jerk, it’s rude to overstay but… it’ll be even ruder to kick him out. Just trust me, okay? That is something that I am experienced in… unlike you.”_

.

  
  
  


**_Good morning, handsome!_ **

**_When you wake up and feel okay, ask for a ride. Sorry for not being able to talk today, I had to work but ‘mi casa, su casa’, so if you need anything, don’t worry, right?_ **

  
  
  


.

  
  
  
  


Minseok kept zooming out, memories distracting him from the numbers in the paper. Maybe he shouldn’t have left home, after all. Jongin looked out of this world, sleeping and sweating on his bed, a real-life painting. 

“When’s the deadline?” Yifan asked, but Minseok’s brain refused to listen. 

He had forgotten how much he liked to have sex. It was so fun and energetic, it made him feel alive and comfortable again.

“Boss,” Yifan asked again. 

“Huh,” Minseok blinked. “What?”

“You said you wanted me to translate it to English,” he pointed to the paper. “You didn’t give me a deadline.”

Oh, how little Minseok cared. He was craving coffee with tons of sugar, a little run downstairs so he could be at peace, remember and blush by himself.

“This month? You should ask the accountants, they’re the ones who need to send this.”

“Oh,” Yifan nodded. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget you’re not an accountant too. Hey, have you heard about the new Spokesperson?”

“You mean Luhan’s replacement.”

“Yes. He’s a drama Actor.”

“Oh,” Minseok faked surprise. “Isn’t that glamorous?”

“Yup. I think it’s neat. It means that we’re becoming fancier, right?”

Yifan wasn’t being sarcastic - he asked those questions because he was a foreigner. Luhan had brought him and Yixing as souvenirs but now no one needed a protector anymore, though, sometimes, they needed context. 

“Probably,” Minseok said. “They do give us some credibility.”

“You look different today,” Yifan finally said before leaving. 

Minseok looked at his own reflection in the tiny mirror on his desk. He felt attractive and mature, but not different. He pushed his black hair back and smiled. 

“Different, huh?”

  
  
  
  


.

  
  


The first meeting without Luhan happened smoothly. His chair was empty because the new guy hadn’t arrived yet - he was being tutored by seniors, learning everything about the company. Minseok was no longer excited for the meeting, which, during the first years, was just a long preliminary, a little game of pretending not to look, taking hints, leaving hidden messages. 

It felt like a work meeting, probably for the first time. 

Yixing stared at him, a bit worried. 

“Are you okay? You look flushed.”

“Of course,” Minseok said. “I forgot my window open last night and got a tan by accident.”

Yixing laughed elegantly, like always. There was something on him that belonged to people born into wealth, that quiet confidence and assurance. 

“I thought you were mad,” Yixing whispered, eyes inspecting the others leaving the room.

“Why would I?” Minseok asked genuinely.

“Most people here think that you should’ve taken his place,” the lawyer confessed. “So did I. Did Luhan offered it and you refused?”

Minseok stared at his coworker, perplexed. So Yixing didn’t know. Or maybe he knew about the relationship and thought that it was romantic, a sweet forbidden love, a Venusian bond. 

“No,” was the answer. 

Luhan would never allow Minseok to take _his_ place. They never played for the same team, even when they were _on_ the same team. Their bond was about competing, fighting, fucking, daring, fire against fire. They could work together if they had a common enemy - that’s how they built the company - but not for too long. 

“But I’m not mad,” Minseok added. 

_It’s not over yet_ , Luhan said himself. Minseok could say the same thing and steal that chair all for himself if he wanted to. 


	5. throwback

  
  


“Summer cleaning,” Minseok typed to Baekhyun, avoiding possible social meetings. 

It didn’t make sense at first; his house was large and spacious with giant windows and open doors. Yet the kids had made a mess and it had been a long time since he checked what he was accumulating. He paid people to clean his place but they didn’t throw away his stuff (only expired food), so he had to see if there was emotional trash to take away from his home. 

He started with the papers, of course. He kept many piles and those he had to burn, probably. The company didn’t have any rivals to justify his suspicious acts, he just wanted to be sure that no one would enjoy the information in his trash can. 

Minseok tied his hair in a ponytail and folded the sleeves of his shirt. He smashed the paper in his hands, threw paper balls on the couch, alone, laughing. 

He found his University's old materials, even a couple of tests. A few notes, silly drawings. He went to the kitchen, chose a wine bottle. Picking the papers one by one while drinking, Minseok suddenly noticed that the pool was empty. 

  
  


.

  
  
  


They always had a soccer match at the weekends, all boys like most of his class. Not only the ones studying Management but guys from Economy, Accounting and one or two from Mathematics. They weren’t really good. Minseok could count in his fingers how many actually knew the rules of the game since most of them weren’t into watching sports. Minseok and Luhan were soccer fans and it could’ve been a disaster if they actually cared about that. 

They didn’t. 

Four, five, six hours running around and complaining, screaming, and falling on the grass. Minseok enjoyed all of that, the purple marks, the cuts, the exhaustion after it, a good feeling of releasing the tension. The winning team wouldn’t pay for anything and he was broke as hell, so it fueled his competitive side - even if Luhan didn’t allow him to touch money.  _ I got you,  _ he said casually, so many possibilities at once. 

Sitting on the grass after the game was a bit therapeutic. They always shared difficult things, so it ended up being an actual bonding activity. They also ate there, asking for delivery food because they were too gross; too many loud men to go to a decent place and not disturb their peace.

Minseok missed it, sometimes, now that he was stuck at the office, in really dumb parties, or at the bar, missed that feeling of carelessness, of not having much but having everything. 

_ “We won,” _ Luhan would wink and that was a peace treaty, a way for him to lean closer, hold Minseok’s shoulder, hug him affectionately in front of the guys. No one knew, of course. The way they shared good laughs while eating, joking and teasing the other guys, or how Luhan would offer to drive anyone home while Minseok was in the passenger seat. So casual, so simple.

Ah, nice memory. Choking on dick while showering in Luhan's tiny apartment. Hands on the waist before the door was open, ripped clothes in the kitchen, lube bottle on the bed. Leaving too soon, too quick, never staying the night. Purple marks on the neck and Minseok had to carry a girl’s picture with him, girly and cute accessories that he stole from his sister, and avoid talking to anyone on certain nights when Luhan was hanging out with the group and he was working at home. 

Minseok had mastered the art of lying without having to say a single word. 

.

Minseok put the papers in the shallow side of the pool, leaning on the border. The wine was over already and he kicked a box full of old documents that he translated many years ago. He sat on the floor and checked one by one, making sure that he wasn’t getting rid of something important. 

His sister called him and he ignored the calls, not getting up even for another cup of wine. 

.

  
  


Luhan never asked before he kissed Minseok, not even in the first time when they were fighting about a dumb university paper. He used to stare at Minseok with the same smiley face, a sort of admiration and surprise. Sometimes, and it was hard to remember it, he was simply dumbstruck. A bit of a love fool, if the word love could be used in this case. 

“ _ Keep talking _ ,” he asked after kissing Minseok in the quiet side of the library, red lips and playful tone. “ _ You look adorable when you’re mad.” _

The first year was like that, an unpredictable storm of kisses and a calculated schedule of quick, sloppy, desperate sex. 

Minseok had tons of friends and he didn’t trust anyone to talk about it. His sister wouldn’t approve and he couldn’t even talk to Luhan. 

They didn’t talk about it. 

But Minseok had a close friend from that time when he tried to be a singer like Changmin, the man in the poster on his wall, and he wasn’t like the other friends. A couple of months in that Entertainment mess and Minseok was too tired for a strong teenager; only the rich kids survived the growing debt and the lack of money, so he simply left. 

A scrawny boy who was a very good singer and used to play the piano was the only one who sent letters when Minseok decided to enlist instead of going straight to university--

_ Wait _ , Minseok stood up. He needed wine. 

What if he had decided to go to college first? He wouldn’t have met Luhan, who applied for the interchange in his twenties to escape his family’s demands.

Minseok drank wine and laughed. What if, what if...

The fact is that Baekhyun wrote for him because Minseok was nice when no one was really that nice back then. Baekhyun used to send lyrics and cute drawings and his fellow army friends thought that a child wrote for Minseok -  _ how cute, is that your brother?  _

_ Yes _ , Minseok would laugh.  _ He is seven years old and very imaginative _ . 

Baekhyun’s family took him away from that idol mess, after months of crying, panic attacks, and terrible diets. Baekhyun continued to be a musician and Minseok’s friend. He traveled Europe before enlisting right after Minseok was discharged, so they only became closer when both were left the army.

At that time, Minseok and Luhan had their thing going for a solid year. 

Baekhyun asked him out and they went to a gay bar to celebrate, though Minseok didn’t know exactly that it was a _ gay _ bar until Baekhyun made out with a random guy. 

“Sorry for that,” he explained to Minseok, grabbing his beer. “I had to unleash my repressed horniness after almost two years dealing with hot guys.”

Minseok was holding his beer in silence. 

“I thought you wouldn’t be so uncomfortable,” Baekhyun laughed, siping his beer after. “I mean, aren’t you dating a guy too?”

“Me?” Minseok pointed to himself. 

“Pretty one, that one you introduced me after the soccer match, I don’t know, college dude with a fancy car,” Baekhyun gestured. “Looks like he’s going to eat you alive, like, all the time. Oh god. Is the poor guy so damn into you and you haven’t noticed?”

He had, in fact, noticed it. And that night, after a few beers, he told Baekhyun about most things, inadvertently creating an indissociable bond between them. 

.

Minseok threw the whole box in the shallow side. In the next hour, there was a pile of advertising, notes, documents, and random papers. 

His phone rang and another wine bottle went to the trashcan. 

  
  
  
  


After a couple of years, things started to change between them. 

Luhan’s crazy idea about bringing an ‘energetic’ drink from his village to another country was finally paying off. A rebranding, a good advertising team, and their own knowledge about business, now that both were about to graduate, helped them to succeed. 

They were no longer the young boys who worked hard and spent days studying, playing soccer, and working to make a dream come true. They were going to be adults, full stable adults. Minseok thought for a long time that changing to s new level in adult life was the reason for them to become such a problematic couple - then he realized that they were never a real couple. 

His sister got married and soon they were waiting for him to do the same. She was pregnant and it was a blessing and a curse; her husband was an ambitious man and that meant that she had to take the role of a stay-at-home mother because they weren’t both financially stable yet. 

Minseok watched her getting married at the same age where he was having the time of his life and understood that she wouldn’t have the same thing. 

And he wouldn’t get married, as well. 

It was not about dating women, which, at this point, he had noticed that he could and would do it, but simply because he was really in love with Luhan. 

They had never confessed to each other and at this point, it became harder and harder to imagine a future like that. 

“It’s not healthy,” Baekhyun used to say when Minseok complained about not being sure. “It started with the wrong foot. You should talk about it."

“We never talk about it,” Minseok said again and again, like a mantra. It was like the relationship never existed; no body, no crime. 

“This is just insane,” Baekhyun didn’t hide his disgust when they were alone. When Luhan was around, Baekhyun was polite and sometimes playful, pretending to be naive. 

Once he asked Minseok, 

“Does Luhan feel jealous of our friendship?”

“No,” Minseok laughed. 

Baekhyun didn’t smile. He was arguing, making an actual point. Despite his fun and childish way to express himself sometimes, again he was ingeniously perceptive.

“I’m your best friend and I date men. If he doesn’t feel threatened by me, does he feel jealous of anyone, then?”

Minseok understood, then, the question and the nature of what he and Luhan had. 

  
  


. 

  
  


Minseok had no actual alcohol left except for vodka, so he poured his Absolut on the papers, laughing alone. 

It felt so satisfying to drop the match and watch it burn like a movie. The fire was rising, quick to spread, leaving dark spots on the blue tiles. The smoke made Minseok’s eyes burn and he ran to grab a hose just in case it got out of control. 

It didn’t. The ashes flew inside of the empty pool a few minutes later and he went back home, tired like he had run a marathon. 

He fell on the couch and closed his eyes. 

.

  
  


Luhan insisted to take Minseok with him every time he had a short business trip - he had to travel, as the spokesman, but there was no reason for Minseok to go as well. 

“It’s boring without you,” Luhan said, teasing. 

Minseok knew why he was tagging along. He felt okay, he accepted it because he was no longer a victim. He had a beach house where he lived alone the entire year, he had a job to make himself busy and a life of his own, so when Luhan opened his room’s door in silence after everyone was sleeping, he wasn’t being led on. 

He wanted that and he wasn’t waiting for anything else. 

Minseok knew the rules.

.

Minseok felt something weird under him and sat up. He threw the pillows on the floor and stared at a colorful lollipop almost shining on the white couch. 

Minseok stared at that alien object in silence. Oh, he realized, thinking about the handsome man that was in his bed a few days ago. 

He took the lollipop, ripped the wrapping, and put it in his mouth. Outside, there was still smoke and grey ashes. 

Not that he cared about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that I never talk here. This fic is just something I want to share; not one of my regular stories, just a very deep thing that I wanted to post. It may not make sense or be based on romance, love, etc. it's a bit raw. Hope you enjoy, then


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